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In a Glass Darkly. Volume 3/3
In a Glass Darkly, v. 3/3
CHAPTER XXIV.
HOPE
She had scarcely set down my heavy box, which she seemed to have considerable difficulty in raising on the table, when the door of the room in which I had seen the coffin, opened, and a sinister and unexpected apparition entered.
It was the Count de St. Alyre, who had been, as I have told you, reported to me to be, for some considerable time, on his way to Père la Chaise. He stood before me for a moment, with the frame of the doorway and a background of darkness enclosing him, like a portrait. His slight, mean figure was draped in the deepest mourning. He had a pair of black gloves in his hand, and his hat with crape round it.
When he was not speaking his face showed signs of agitation; his mouth was puckering and working. He looked damnably wicked and frightened.
"Well, my dear Eugenie? Well, child – eh? Well, it all goes admirably?"
"Yes," she answered, in a low, hard tone. "But you and Planard should not have left that door open."
This she said sternly. "He went in there and looked about wherever he liked; it was fortunate he did not move aside the lid of the coffin."
"Planard should have seen to that," said the Count, sharply. "Ma foi! I can't be everywhere!" He advanced half-a-dozen short quick steps into the room toward me, and placed his glasses to his eyes.
"Monsieur Beckett," he cried sharply, two or three times, "Hi! don't you know me?"
He approached and peered more closely in my face; raised my hand and shook it, calling me again, then let it drop, and said – "It has set in admirably, my pretty mignonne. When did it commence?"
The Countess came and stood beside him, and looked at me steadily for some seconds.